


Hold me in your arms

by nupoxsi



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sibling Incest, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:23:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nupoxsi/pseuds/nupoxsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>"Will you go with me?”</em><br/><em>“Of course.”</em> Iker kissed his hair softly and Unai felt nothing could ever hurt him again. He felt everything would be alright as long as Iker was always around. <em>“I’m never going to leave you.”</em></p><p>That night Unai fell asleep with his brother’s arms shielding him, wondering if Heaven could be a person and not a place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold me in your arms

**Author's Note:**

> Well, my week has been a bit crazy and I've been wanting to write more about this pairing. By mistake I overheard a conversation a little kid was having with his older brother on the bus this Wednesday and I kind of got inspired to write _a part_ of this fic.
> 
> Disclaimer: nothing on this fic happened irl.
> 
> Before reading, keep in mind this history has incest, so if you have any problem with it I'd recommend you to stop reading.

 

_❝And we're side by side_   
_It's always been just you and me  
For all to see _

_When our lives are over_   
_And all that remains_   
_Are our skulls and bones,let's take it to the grave_   
_And hold me in your arms, hold me in your arms_   
_I'll be buried here with you_

_―_ Bastille, Skulls.

 

* * *

 

 

The sad news reach Unai’s ears by mistake. It’s scarcely 6 o’clock and they are breakfasting together when phone rings. They exchange a confused look for a moment before Iker stretches to grab the phone, as usual. Neither of them were expecting any important phone call and preoccupation is written all over Iker’s face. He rapidly mouths _‘mom’_ and stands from the table, lurching lazily to the kitchen. Their mother calls them every now and then to ask how are things doing, but never so early. It’s the main reason why Unai starts to feel uneasy when he hears Iker mumbling _‘okay’s_ and _‘oh’s_ several times. Unai doesn’t intent to overhear Iker’s conversation over the phone, there’s no necessity whatsoever, Iker would tell him what’s all about the moment he hangs up, but it’s something he cannot help. His older brother has an habit of repeating part of the conversation he’s having while on the phone, and it’s clear as crystal when he repeats a distant aunt died in a car accident.

He freaks out internally for a half second when he hears Iker sniffing and mumbling something to his mother, but in two heartbeats Iker is in front him placing the phone on the table.

 

“It was mom,” he says, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.“Aunt Claudia died.”

“I heard you.”

“Oh.” Iker takes a sip from his glass, eyebrows going upwards, an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry, sometimes I-”

 

Unai smiles weakly at him and nods. Iker doesn’t need to finish the sentence because they both know Unai understands perfectly what he means. Sometimes Unai wonders if there is anything he doesn’t know about his brother.

 

“Did you know her?”

Iker nods. “Yes, she used to take me to the park like twice a week ages ago.”

“I can’t recall her face, sorry,” Unai says and reaches to squeeze Iker’s hand. Despite not really knowing her Unai could feel sadness in his brother’s voice.

“The funeral’s today,” Iker informs him. “Mom wants us to go.”

There’s sadness in the way Iker looks at him and even if Unai doesn’t want to go, he nods quietly. “We should be getting ready then.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Death was never a common topic to talk about for Unai. Ever since he was born he has been lucky enough to have never experienced a death within the family. The closest he’s been to mourn someone happened when he was a kid.

 

Unai remembers he was 7. It was a normal day when he was back from home, he rushed upstairs to play with his bunny Lucca and found he wouldn’t move. Unai tried everything to catch the bunny’s attention but nothing worked. He was too young to understand what was happening, he doesn’t even remember how he got downstairs with a dead bunny in his hands. His mother saw him and told him “Lucca was dead.” The whole situation was alien for him and his mother didn’t get the chance to talk with him about it, Unai simply ran to just room and cried.

He wouldn’t allow his mother into his room, he would scream at his father when he tried to touch him. Unai sobbed for several hours until it was dark and Iker was back from his late afternoon practices.

 

“Unai?” Iker asked from the bedroom’s door frame, voice as gentle as it could be. “Mom told me, Unai, I’m sorry.”

 

In no more than a few seconds Iker was already at his side comforting him like no one else could ever do. Unai didn’t object, he didn’t even dare to move. Iker was his big brother, his rock, Iker was the only person who could make everything better again.

 

He took hold of Iker’s shirt. “ _Lucca―_  mom said he died.”

“I know, I’m so sorry.” Iker’s hand on his back moved in smalls circles. Unai only cried harder and allowed Iker to hold him against his chest while he rocked him softly. “But he will be fine, Unai, he will be happy. He’s going to Heaven, you know?”

“H―he will?”

“Yes, he will. When you die you go to heaven.” His brother’s words were soft as a whisper, his touch meant calm. Unai relaxed with Iker’s arms wrapped around him. “It’s nice in there, nothing can really hurt you.”

“Oh,” Unai said a bit surprised. He didn’t know what heaven was back then and Iker was some sort of Wikipedia, always full of information. “Have you been there?”

Iker laughed weakly, his thumb brushing away Unai’s tears from his cheeks. “No.”

“Will I go there?”

“Yeah, you will,” Iker replied. “Though that will happen in one hundred years or so.”

“Will you go with me?”

“Of course.” Iker kissed his hair softly and Unai felt nothing could ever hurt him again. He felt everything would be alright as long as Iker was always around. “I’m never going to leave you.”

 

That night Unai fell asleep with his brother’s arms shielding him, wondering if Heaven could be a person and not a place.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Unai is old now, he knows there’s no such thing as heaven and eternal happiness. Yet it doesn’t keep him from wondering what would happen when they both died.

 

Black shirts are lain on the mattress of the bed as he considers which one he should use. The room feels rather cold for Unai, he barely even walks into it unless he needs to look for a particular kind of clothing, like now. Iker dressed even before he got time to finish his cereal, kissing Unai’s hair softly before going upstairs. Buckling his belt Unai feels awful because his aunt’s death didn’t impact him the way it should’ve. It’s understandable, yet he feels there should be a part of him mourning for his relative. He isn’t sad, he simply feels numb.

There’s a knock on his door and Unai turns around when he perceives the sound. The door opens and Iker is there, looking as beautiful as ever. People always say their resemblance was incredible, but for Unai it was never true. He might see himself in Iker in certain occasions, but they were so different he finds hard to believe some people even say their personalities are alike. Iker always sees the bright side of everything, always reminding him of the things that are worth waiting for. Iker jokes, likes to make him laugh during difficult times. Iker is the reason Unai smiles.

“Unai, you ready?”

“Yeah, I―” he tilts his head in the bed’s direction. “I just need to put my shirt on.”

Nodding, Iker grabs the doorknob in one movement and is on his way to leave the room. “Okay. I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

“Wait,” Unai exclaims before Iker gets the opportunity to turn the other away. “I didn’t get the chance to ask before,” he says softly, standing in front of him. A hand caresses Iker’s cheek gently, a gesture that has remained between them over the years. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m…” Iker’s eyes travel around the room to settle on Unai’s. In that moment he can tell there’s whirl of emotions inside his brother, and he wishes he could do something to help. “I’m good, Unai, don’t worry about it.”

 

But Unai does.

 

Leaning in, he studies Iker’s face. They’re so close their eyelashes are almost brushing, Iker’s cologne mixing with his own. Unai closes the distance between them, his lips pressing softly above his brother’s. Warm, gentle, Unai tries to be whatever it is Iker needs now. Iker responds immediately, soft lips against soft lips, Unai’s hand stroking Iker’s cheek smoothly. The kiss doesn’t last long, Unai breaks it but he doesn’t jerk backwards from his brother. He keeps still, his hand trailing down from Iker’s cheek to rest on his chest.

“Okay,” he whispers. He can tell Iker appreciates it by the way he covers Unai’s hand with his own and squeezes lightly. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

“It’s fine, I’ll be waiting for you, take your time.” Iker smiles, he can feel the tenderness in his brother’s voice and Unai can’t help but to lean in to kiss his brother’s cheek before letting him go downstairs.

 

The door closes and Unai walks back towards the bed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The funeral is quick and it doesn’t make much sense for Unai. A large amount of people he doesn’t know approach him to offer his condolences and, despite not really knowing who they are, Unai shakes takes hand and thanks them for being there. He tries to stick by Iker’s side as much as he can, but several people call Iker by his name and even if Unai knows Iker doesn’t like the idea of leaving him alone with lots of people he doesn’t know the name of, he gives him a small nod to let him know he’s fine with it.

In part he’s glad because he gets the time to speak with his cousin David, whom he hadn’t seen in a while. They are talking about Uni when Iker steps beside him, a heavy arm falling around Unai’s shoulders.

 

Their mother informs them she’s already booked a table at her favourite restaurant in Madrid before they get the chance to say goodbye. None of them can reject the invitation, so Iker simply nods and replies with a soft "we'll see you there." Driving there takes them no more than 15 minutes, in which Unai turns on the radio and listens to whatever song is playing.

Unai spots their table the minute they walk in.  The place is crowded, possibly due to the hour, people are dressed in a fancy way and smooth jazz is playing on the background. Unai falls heavily onto one of the seats, he glances at his his mother. She walks towards him, possibly with the yearning of sitting beside him. Thankfully Iker is quick enough to pick the spot right next to Unai on their table, their parents sitting across them.

 

“So, Unai,” their mother says after taking a sip from her red wine. “You haven’t told us when you’ll be moving out.”

 

 _Ha_. It doesn’t take long this time. His mother has been urging him to move from Iker’s for nearly 6 months now, stating he is buggering Iker. They’ve discussed this very same topic the last few times they’ve seen each other, and Unai never knows how to reply properly. Their mother doesn’t notice how Unai’s room is never used, how to bed is never slept in, how Iker’s bedroom has his favourite blanket folded at the bottom of his bed-their bed.

 

“Mom,” Iker hisses at her. “Please, don’t―”

“Iker, she’s right,” their dad interrupts. “It’s already past time for your brother to be living on his own now. There are nice apartments around, Unai, it’s only a matter of looking for the one you like the most.”

“And we’re sure you love your brother, Iker,” their mother chimes in before any of them get the chance to reply. “But you don’t need to take care of him, he’s old enough now. He needs to be independent.”

 

The tone of her voices makes Unai shift awkwardly on his seat. His steak gets cold as his mother waits for an answer that never comes. He wants to be pissed because she speaks as if he isn’t right in front of her, she still treats him like a child, but he can’t. He doesn’t want to be rude, he doesn’t want to say something his parents could lead to a misunderstood. So Unai keeps silent and plays idly with a carrot on his plate.

 

“We really mean it,” her mother speaks again, her gaze fixed on Iker. “You need time for yourself, Iker, you’ll start your own family soon and―”

“I get that, mom, I do. But have you ever thought I really _enjoy_ having Unai around?” Iker interrupts. His voice is calm and steady, and her mother tilts her head to a side. Unai looks at his plate and tries to hide the smile in his face, unsure of how his parents would take the gesture. “Whenever I have a rough day, either an intense training or a bad match, I get home and Unai is there and he makes me forget everything… I mean, c’mon, he’s the person I’ve been closest to my whole life,” Iker says softly. Unai glances at him out of the corner of his eye and wishes they could give a better explanation, he wishes they could tell the main reason, but they can’t and they won’t. “He’s never bothered me and I don’t think he will.”

“Well, if you put it that way, honey…”

“It’s the way it is, I can assure you that,” Iker says. “You’re our parents and we love you, but you need to stop worrying about this. If Unai really wants to move, he is free to do as pleases.”

Her mother doubts for half a second before replying an uninterested “okay.”

 

When their parents change the subject Iker reaches carefully for Unai’s hand under the table. He laces their fingers together, Unai pushes deep down the urges to look at their hands and see how perfectly well they fit together.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The room is quiet, it feels as if the world outside froze so the two of them could concentrate in nothing else than the sound each other’s steady breathing. Unai stares at Iker’s face, studying every single freckle as if he never got the chance to see them again, wondering everything and nothing at the same time. Iker isn’t asleep, Unai knows, he can tell the differences between the way Iker jaw worked while he slept and the way his eyes moved behind his eyelids while he was still awake.

Unai snuggles close to his brother. Their skin touch and Unai believes there’s no blanket who can cover him from the chill of the room as much as Iker’s warm embrace does.

 

“Do you remember what you told me the day that Lucca died?” he asks with a husky voice.

Iker’s hand tangles in his hair, tender touches that bring Unai memories of crawling into Iker’s bed whenever he had a bad nightmare, or just whenever he felt back. It’s an habit they’ve both become fond of. “Lucca? Your bunny Lucca?”

“Yes. White, little…”

“You were pretty upset,” Iker says with a soft chuckle. His hand is still playing small circles in his hair. “I got home and found you curled into a little ball on your bed. You cried so much that day.”

“But do you remember what you told me?”

“Of course I do.” Iker glances at him and Unai knows he isn’t lying. Iker was the only person who would never lie to him.

“Do you think we-” he sucks his teeth. There’s no way of putting it in a nice way, a way that wouldn’t make Iker worry about it. But Unai has been overthinking everything that day and he says the first thing he guesses would do. “Did you really mean it? Do you think we’ll be together?” he asks, and Iker’s expression changes in a heartbeat. He knows Unai.

“Is this because of what mom said today?”

“No.” Iker furrows his brows together. “Yes. Kinda,” Unai admits. “Do you still think that, though? Or did you only tell me that to keep me from crying?”

Iker smiles sadly at him for a moment but if he really is sad, he does a good job hiding it. “I am sure of it,” he assures him. He caresses Unai’s neck smoothly, his fingers move in such a way it makes Unai tickle lightly. “You can’t change the way some things go, but I’m sure of that.” He lifts Unai’s jaw, his lips barely hovering Unai’s. He keeps still, feeling Iker’s breath over him, relaxing under his touch. “You and I will always be together, Unai. In bad times, in good times. You’ve been the only constant thing in my life, and you’ll always be.” He pressed his lips to Unai’s and kisses him

 

Someone would catalogue their relationship as weird, they’d call them strange for being so codependent on each other, but Unai doesn’t care. Iker is there, Iker is always there, and that’s the only thing that matters.

 

His brother holds him as he falls asleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> As you might've noticed the title for this work comes from Bastille's song "[Skull](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K-eR1R03kFA)." The song is lovely and just fit perfectly into this story.


End file.
